Russian Roulette
by 0Life-is-a-Song0
Summary: Detective Roxas Strife is dead set on putting Axel Salvatore, resident mafia boss, behind bars. He'll stop at nothing to destoy him. Axel Salvatore is dead set on keeping Roxas Strife all for himself. He'll stop at nothing to have him. M for violence
1. Whisper

_New Story! :D_

_Aren't we excited...?_

_Don't hate me... please? _

_I can't help it... the others are being updated, but I just got off of grounding so I couldn't work on the others, and I just had a notebook to scribble ideas in...and then this story was born!_

_Give special thanks to the song Russian Roulette by Rihanna :) Good stuff_

_Summary: It's easy to have everything when the world is at your fingertips. This Axel has learned the nice way as the head of the most influential and feared mob group that has struck the western hemisphere. He plays his games and wins every single time with ease. Of course, for every good villain there has to be a good cop to just spoil things, isn't there? The only thing standing in Axel's way of controlling the strongest drug and weapons trafficking system in the black market is Detective Roxas Strife, head of the crime unit that has dedicated its funds to bringing the mob down once and for all. He is smart, dedicated, and determined to bring Axel down if it's the last thing he ever does. It is a bitter battle between good and evil, right and wrong as two polar opposite people fight against each other in a battle of wits, chance, and passion. Eventual AkuRoku, dark, M for violence and lemons :3 _

_Multiple pairings on the side,definitely not the main points like Axel and Roxas will be._

_This is going to be a dark kind of fanfic, ok? Don't like, don't read... but I would like it better if you liked it :) _

_Reviews make me want to write... _

Disclaimer: Not mine :( Sad days...

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

He was marked for death.

He was surrounded by women on all sides, laughter and champagne flowing freely as music lightly played in the background and food was served. He was eating at the luxury restaurant in Twilight Town, The Clock Tower, an honor since it was in his name that dinner was made. He was unknowing of his fate.

He was unknowing that he was even marked, but it did not matter. It didn't matter that he was a wealthy, independent man who had built his business from the ground up and had reached the millionaire state by the age of 38. It didn't matter that as a Christmas gift he had given to every charity in Twilight Town. It didn't matter that he was going to propose to the love of his life after dinner when he was right outside her house, asking her to marry him on the stroke of midnight. It didn't matter that he was going to visit his parents for the holidays and that he was going to be to his new nephew's christening in two weeks.

He needed to cancel his plans.

He wasn't going anywhere after tonight.

"So how do you think that your business is going to progress now that the economy is so bad?" His close friend and confidant raised an eyebrow and sipped from his wine glass slowly, savoring the flavor.

"It's at a standstill with things since we don't want to waste money on imports that won't sell. We're definitely trying to wait to see if things pick up, but if they don't we're going to have to downsize; I'm not going to lie." Zack Fair replied as he shrugged off a desperate model's arm and leaned forward, eyes intent.

"Things will get better." His friend consoled him soothingly, giving the model a slightly apologetic glance at Zack's lack of interest in her. He knew that it was stupid to let her sit with them, but how could he say no when she turned pleading eyes on him? Cloud wasn't good with saying no to innocent girls.

"Yeah, things will get better, Zack." She agreed, looking up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. Hardly glancing at her, Zack nodded distractedly, giving Cloud a very pointed look. Cloud nodded and leaned in as well. Sliding his finger along his ear, Zack coughed discreetly and looked the other way, a sign that they needed to talk without her listening.

"Hey, Yvonne… how about you go and hang out with the rest of the party goers?" Cloud suggested nicely, nodding to where the party group was seated around a large wrap around table, talking animatedly. Indignant and just a little embarrassed, the girl stood up and gave them both an annoyed glance before walking away. Zack hardly noticed though, glancing around now to make sure no one was listening.

"I feel bad for her." Cloud muttered to himself.

"Why'd you invite her anyway?" Zack asked.

"She's influential if you learned how to work the social circle as well as the business one."

"That's not my main concern… I've got problems with the business… why worry about my social life? I'm going down… percent rates dropping…" Zack shook his head and ran his fingers through his thick hair, his fingers trembling slightly. He had worked to where he'd gotten, and the idea of things falling apart because someone else was stupid made his blood boil.

"How down would you go now that you've hit the top?" Cloud asked quietly.

"Farther than I am now, probably." Zack replied, nodding to where the waiter was beginning to head their way with a new bottle of wine. Reaching them, he immediately refilled Cloud's glass and then turned to Zack with a raised eyebrow, silently asking if he wanted more bourbon.

"I'm fine." Zack turned away from the expectant worker, worried eyes trained on his best friend. When they were younger they'd served together as soldiers in the military for four years, stationed together and covering each other's back until they'd been released from their contracts. That kind of friendship didn't fade, no matter the consequences and no matter the situation.

"And how did… the last import go?" Cloud whispered, waving the waiter away with a flick of his wrist. Leaving them, the waiter gave them a backwards glance, a frown on his face at the sudden rudeness he'd been faced with. Usually the two of them were good at being very friendly and open but tonight… they seemed edgy.

"The last import was our very first import with them… I suspect it went well… but how should I know? I haven't gotten a call saying that the whole transaction was finished with. They could have been found out and I wouldn't be aware of it unless I was shot." Cloud frowned at that and glanced around the restaurant with short, sweeping motions that showed his training from the military.

"Are you worried that something slipped up?" He took account of each of the different people visible, shifting his chair slightly to the side so that his back faced a wall. Cloud took account of the large glass window that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, giving away their position to any person on the third floor of any surrounding buildings on that side.

"I'm not sure… I knew it was a bad idea to get involved with them… but their boss sent a man… said he could help me with my financial problems. Did I do the right thing?" Zack frowned and saw his friend's movements, glancing around to see what had gotten Cloud so worried. Seeing nothing he took a long drink of his bourbon and sighed softly.

"Too late to fix it anyway. Maybe I should try to talk to him myself?"

"Let him come to you just in case something went wrong; you don't want to give the impression that you're a people pleaser." Cloud felt his neck prickling uncomfortably, but he couldn't find the itch. Everyone around them was acting perfectly normal, eating and enjoying their evening like any other average day.

Their was a moment of silence, the old friends taking in the person before them and trying to figure them out. They both knew that the other would die for them, but at what cost?

"What is the value of a life, Cloud?" Zack asked after a few minutes had passed. His voice was slightly raw and hoarse.

"A life is as useful as the usefulness of the person." Cloud replied easily.

"And am I… useful?" He asked in return, oddly hesitant, but Cloud didn't miss a beat.

"Of course you are. It's going to be fine. You brought in the shipments needed, now you just need to hear back. It's been about a week or so since then, but they're probably weighting if it was a clean run, that's all. You don't plan on doing this all the time... it was just to pay off the debts." Cloud wasn't much of a talker, but just seeing his best friend torn up about what might happen was going to make a preacher of him yet.

"Of course… and I'm not yet done living."

* * *

The crosshairs were right on the hit, waiting for the order.

The building was two stories higher than necessary, the roof was patched up and a little awkward to maneuver around, and the rock that the rifle was perched on kept moving with each gust of wind but the assassin made sure to keep a cool, detached expression as he worked. It didn't matter that he didn't want to work another hit. It didn't matter that his girlfriend had gotten pregnant and now he had to get his stuff and leave before she could try to reel him in as a "father figure". It didn't matter that he had the flu and could hardly breathe through his nose, either.

The boss-man was riding in on this hit. Any mistake would be his last one.

"Have you worked clean sweeps like this before?" The voice behind him was smooth and self-assured, arrogance and confidence blending with one another. The assassin adjusted the wind-dial on his scope, taking in the slight west wind that was blowing lightly but constantly.

"Yes, sir." He kept his voice low and his breathing basically non-existent, not wanting to upset his sight on the target. He wasn't exactly sure why the boss-man was going in on the hit with him since he was a senior worker, but it wasn't like he would complain. Though the boss-man didn't do runs, he was just as deadly as his top assassins. You didn't question him unless you had nothing to lose.

"Just wait for my signal." There was the subtle smell of cigarette smoke, and the assassin cringed inwardly. The light at the end of the cigarette would surely give them away if someone truly cared to look for these kinds of things.

"Sir… why are we taking him out? The shipment went through… we just don't have to use him again. No contact with him will make him edgy, and people who are scared often don't talk when it's circumstances like this." The voice of one of boss-man's main men came through, soft and monotone, and there was the gentle, mocking laughter that followed it.

"Questioning Axel, Zexion? He knows what he's doing. He lays his cards right." Another one of his men shuffled a deck of cards, the soft whooshing noise grating on the assassin's nerved, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Being around so many people nonchalant about a hit was really making him edgy, but he had to concentrate. One of those people could possibly end his life if he screwed up, so he buttoned his lips and made sure that the silencer was on the end of the barrel and that the small cover he'd brought was still covering the glint of the steel.

"I was merely suggesting that-"

"The hit's got friends in good places. We don't have time to mess around with something that'll bite us in the ass later, Zex; the stakes aren't right if you've got honest cops digging into dishonest business." There was the sound of cards shuffling again, and then the smell of smoke wafted across the breeze.

"Easy boys, don't upset the job at hand." His tone was light and cool, but there was a hint of warning underneath it that immediately ended the discussion. The assassin pursed his lips together and cleared his throat of the sickness so that he could speak.

"Sir, when do you want me to land the hit?" He asked softly, not wanting to breathe or move too hard.

"When you can see the whites of their eyes." Was the dry, sly remark. Unsure as to whether or not he should respond, the assassin adjusted the butt of the the rifle against his shoulder and kept his finger poised to the side, waiting for the opportune moment.

The silence drifted over them, and the assassin's nerves were strung tight. He could feel the wind blowing gently against him, and he could feel every grain of rock from the roof. He could feel the pressure of his clothing and the lack of air in his lungs. Still, he didn't move, waiting for the command of the person behind him that had dropped the cigarette to the ground and with the hiss of a match, lit a new one.

"Do you know the percentage rate for good cops versus bad cops?" Boss-man asked in his smooth, slick voice, breaking the silence.

"For every 1 good cop there are 3 bad cops, sir." The monotone, uncaring voice responded immediately.

"So there's a 25% chance in this town of having honest cops than dirty ones." He wasn't clarifying the fact; it was apparent in his tone that he already knew that. "And you could assume that it's the same with the work force…those who are loyal to the city and the people… and those that are loyal to themselves." The smell of smoke drifted over the assassin's face, and he resisted the urge to cough.

"You asked, Zexion, why we're taking the hit. Your logic is valid with the idea of fear, however; it went a little too smoothly, if you can understand what I'm saying." There was a smug superiority in his tones, and the assassin focused intently on the shock of dark hair that was his mark. Across from him, a light haired businessman listened with a somber expression, his face clear through the scope like he was standing 5 feet away.

"There is usually a problem or so." The man named Zexion didn't phrase it as a question.

"Some sort of problem that is smoothed over easily… but there was nothing to smooth. Honest men do honest things… and when faced with a dishonest thing… they passively push it aside to deal with it the honest way." The scent of cigarettes drew closer, and the assassin forced himself not to gag.

"Someone reported this to the police." Again, it wasn't a question from the man named Zexion.

"Yes, and to none other than our dearest friend, Detective Roxas Strife. It was a carrier man. A hard working labor man." There was a breath of laughter at that, and the deck of cards was shuffled again.

"What can he do? There is no proof. He can't tie this to you."

"Dear Detective Strife cannot do a thing… once again his hands are tied, the poor man… but there has to be some sort of punishment for being an honest man and turning us in."

"But the target-"

"He is not the problem… he is honest, but scared… but the hit will subtly show everyone who has some semblance of decency what happens when things start to get a little too honest. Seeing his boss killed will certainly ensure that no one else opens their pretty little mouths." His tone suddenly turned very cold and official, and there was a soft crunch of gravel as he stepped closer to the edge.

"Are you ready?" The smooth, arrogant voice made the assassin's blood run cold.

"Ready when you are, sir." He replied with a slight whisper in his voice.

"Kill him." Axel whispered. "Kill him, now."

* * *

"We need to leave." Cloud felt his nerves start to get too jumpy.

"What's wrong?" Zack stood up a little, rising to his feet as Cloud lifted his hand to wave the waiter over for the check.

"I've got a bad feeling. We need to leave." Cloud couldn't see exactly what the danger was, but his blood was starting to rush, and his pulse felt a bit too unsteady for things to be alright.

"Is it what I said? I'm just a little nervous, Cloud, it's going to be ok." Zack frowned at the calm, dead expression that was growing on his old friend's face, and with a slightly pounding heart he pulled out his wallet.

"You really think so?" Cloud asked as he looked around the room jerkily.

"What's gotten into you…? Aren't I usually the paranoid one?" Zack attempted to joke, but just seeing the tense grip Cloud had on his wallet made Zack feel the desire to leave just as fast as his friend was attempting to.

"Let's just go… ok? Don't you need to get to Aerith?"

"Well, yes, but I was going to propose at midnight… I've got time."

* * *

"He's moving, sir." The assassin's heart jumped as his hit moved and began to stand up. His friend looked jumpy, waving a hand and leaning over to face his friend urgently. Did he know? The assassin felt his blood run icy.

"So stop him." There was the shuffle of cards, and the smell of smoke. Moving the crosshairs immediately towards the man's head, the assassin lined things up again and exhaled slowly, his finger calmly moving towards the trigger and curling around the small object that could do so much damage. The man was moving still, his head jerking slightly as the other man continued talking.

"Shoot him. Now."

Holding his breath the assassin calmly squeezed the trigger, right eye lined on the prize, waiting for the smell of gunfire, the small popping noise, and then the screams that would follow.

He was surprised when the rifle fired.

* * *

"Zack, let's just bring the limo up, ok?" Cloud felt anxious, his blood pumping and his hands jittery with the desire to hold a weapon for security, but what could he hold? There was nothing to help him, to calm him down.

"Look, I'm going to be alri-" There was the sound of breaking glass, and then Zack staggered to the side, a hand flying to his head. People began to murmur as waiters rushed to see what had happened, and a lady began to complain about glass in her food. Cloud didn't see this though, nor did he see the people who were trying to find the source of the glass. He didn't see the lady picking glass out of her food, nor did he see the manager appearing from nowhere to help.

All he saw was red.

Everything seemed to slow down. Zack, catching himself on the table, crumpled to his knees, his eyes wide and his lips parted as a small, thin line of blood fell from his lips. Blindly looking up, he saw Cloud and a small, barely existent smile formed on his lips as he grappled at the table to keep from collapsing on the floor. Blood seeped from his head down to his collar, collecting on the starched white shirt and staining things crimson as Cloud automatically moved to catch his friend, leading him to the ground slowly and staring into his blank, fading eyes. Something cold and black was building inside of him, and a lump formed in his throat as he stared unseeingly, the red washing around him.

"Zack-"

"I'm… sorry…" The words hardly made it past his lips as he reached up with a surprisingly strong grip and pulled Cloud closer. Tears pricked Cloud's eyes at the scene, and his hands were shaking wildly. With wide eyes and stare of disbelief Zack looked up and then smiled again, a solemn, bitter smile.

And then he was still.

Cloud couldn't think. He couldn't feel, he couldn't breathe. His heart was racing beneath his chest, beating a drum into his ribcage, and he could hardly get the words out.

"Help… somebody…" He couldn't force his voice above a whisper, and he clutched his best friend tightly as somebody turned to see the commotion and noticed the blood.

A scream of horror pierced the air and then everyone turned to see Cloud holding the most influential man in Twilight Town with a bullet in his head.

* * *

"Confirmed kill, sir." The assassin pulled his rifle back and immediately began disassembling it, frowning as he unwound and unscrewed the different pieces. Axel watched his movement slowly, taking in the precise way that he worked, and feeling disgust wash through him.

"He is dead." It wasn't a question, though his worker paused like he was going to answer it. Idiot. Axel let a stream of smoke pass through his lips.

"You're sure this will silence everyone?" The cards shuffled again and Luxord looked over as Axel breathed in his favorite cigarettes and exhaled the smoke.

"It will show our dearest Detective Roxas Strife what happens when he entertains the notions of poor labor-men." Axel grinned to his main men and nodded towards the assassin that was laughing along with them, like he was one of them. The assassin zipped his tools up into his small duffle bag he felt a little glow of pride. He was surrounded by the most influential men of his job, and they were acting like it was ok to joke around him. Maybe he'd move up the ladder for this?

"Poor detective." Came the somber reply from the card shuffler.

"He really is... I often feel bad that he's dedicated so much of his time to try to bring me to justice." Axel grinned as Zexion gave him a vaguely amused look.

"What if one day he catches you?" The assassin asked, silencing everyone with his words. Axel raised an eyebrow and looked at Zexion, lips pursed into a smirk.

"Are you ready, sir?" Zexion asked him. Looking down at the still not finished assassin, Axel nodded and pulled his wool coat tighter to his body, feeling the chill begin to creep in. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a long, thin revolver and took careful aim, positioning the crosshairs right at the base of the man's skull.

He'd be dead before he could blink.

"You're a poor shot. He was alive enough to say something. Something like a name. Mistakes in my workforce are taken care of quickly." He informed his employee before he calmly squeezed the trigger and watched as the man hit the rooftop with a dull thud, no sound emmitting from his lips.

Turning around he hardly gave Zexion and Luxord a glance before handing Zexion the revolver to clean up, stepping down the ladder and quickly descending into the small supply closet and leaving by the back door where a car was waiting for him.

No one made a mistake in front of the boss-man and lived to tell about it.

* * *

_Hit or miss? Let me know in a reivew! :)_

_I'm kind of nervous about this... it's dark and mean and violent... and I don't know how people will like it :/ so please review and let me know!_

_And you'll meet Detective Roxas Strife Soon :D_

_If I get enough good feedback I'll update sometime next week!_

_Until then!_


	2. Hiss

_:) Thanks for your reviews! You 5 guys were awesome!_

_Sorry it's taken so long, I've really dug myself a hole... can't help it! I've got stories to write, and I don't want to let you guys down!_

_So... I love this Axel. He's bad boy hot... and I can't help but love writing him :D_

_So... yeah... nothing else to say.._

_Just please review? _

_Enjoy! :D_

* * *

"So you're telling the court that this man is linked to Axel Salvatore how?" The lawyer raised an eyebrow and leaned in towards the witness with the intent to intimidate.

"H-h-he mentioned his name… c-called him b-b-boss man…" The witness cast a hopeful glance towards the prosecution bench where two lone detectives were watching the cross-examination, but no help came from their faces. One of them looked detached and truly uncaring, but the other looked furious beyond belief. His eyes were like ice chips, deadly and cruel as he watched the defense rip into his witness. No mercy showed on his face, only pure frustration.

"So you're saying that this deranged man who pulled the gun out on your cousin was talking about Axel Salvatore as he was intoxicated?" The defense lawyer grinned smugly as the witness quailed under his stare.

"He… he wasn't deranged…" The witness clutched her shirt tightly and looked over at the judge whose eyebrows were raised as he waited. "He… he was very lucid… and he was calm…" Detective Roxas Strife gave his partner a tired, fed-up glare and then promptly buried his head in his arms with a groan.

"She's holding her own very well considering she saw someone murdered." His partner whispered as he pulled out a small notepad and wrote down a few notes for their next witness.

"Do you know the alcohol level he had when he took a breathalyzer test?" The lawyer asked.

"N-no…"

"Put a bullet through my head." Roxas hissed as he saw the witness visibly shaking from where he sat. Anger and frustration washed through him as he glanced back and saw a small group of well dressed and smug men on the back row, a tall and imposing figure in the middle of them. They all seemed to be very watchful of the people around them, keeping their eyes on the hands and actions of anything that could be a potential threat. The entire row was on edge.

Well, all except the man in the middle.

He was taller than the others, this apparent even when he was sitting down. He wore a tailored, three piece black pinstriped suit and a crisp white shirt underneath it, a blood red tie standing out proudly against the contrasting colors. He had a pale, narrow face and jade green eyes that were cat-like and slightly small, predatory and ruthless as he stared everything down. He held his head high and proud, his lips turned into a smirk naturally. He looked polished, pristine, and perfect. The only things truly unprofessional about him would have to be his hair that was wild and spiked back, a vivid crimson color, and the small, upside town triangles under his magnetically powerful eyes.

Turning his gaze around the room calmly, the man noticed Roxas staring at him hatefully and his smirk grew. Tilting his head he winked slowly, lazily, and nodded to where the witness was being roundly abused and Roxas was helpless to stop it. His lips curled up and he casually dismissed Roxas's glare with a raised eyebrow. Fuming, Roxas turned back towards the scene before him.

"Were you aware that he blew a 0.9 on the test, signifying that he was drunk?"

"I'm serious, put a bullet in my head." Roxas snapped under his breath.

"If I did that then where would all of my entertainment come from?" Riku replied easily, nudging his partner and nodding to where the jury looked disgusted and annoyed.

"N-no…"

"You could take this unhelpful brat home and question her… Bradley's having a field day making her piss her pants she's so scared, maybe you would too." Roxas muttered darkly, wanting to look back at the bench behind him again but resisting the urge. He didn't want to give _him_ the satisfaction.

"So you weren't aware that he was actually incoherent, therefore the words coming from his mouth meant next to nothing since he wasn't in the right mind?"

"No… I mean, he didn't act like it…" the woman shifted uncomfortably, making Roxas let his head fall back onto the table with a dull thud.

"Easy there, Roxas." Riku droned from beside him as he took careful notes.

"So you'd now agree, based on this information, that him saying something about a boss man and mentioning Axel Salvatore could be just a simple misunderstanding in a drunk man's mind? Axel Salvatore owns no large business cooperation with hit-men, to the state's understanding."

"Y-yes…"

"Fuck me." Roxas groaned into his arm as the witness looked at him pleadingly, confusion all over her face. Riku patted his shoulder consolingly and jotted down another note, his expression blank and uncaring. Of course… they'd been through this drill before. People stopped caring when something disappointing happened time after time.

"No further questions, your honor." Bradley smiled warmly at the prosecution table as he adjusted his tie and sat down smoothly.

"Does the prosecution wish to re-examine the witness?" Roxas stood up and faced the judge, watching as the witness crumpled in grief and fear on the stand, her red eyes filling up with tears as she realized just how badly she'd failed. Sighing and looking down at Riku's notes, he felt a small ray of hope that his partner had found something that he made missed. He'd been taking notes, after all.

This hope was dashed when Roxas saw the childish doodles of paopu fruit and palm trees decorating small circles of hearts that said, "Riku and Sora 4-ever". They were done for.

"No, your honor…" Roxas sighed, pushing the notes away disgustedly and giving Riku a black look. "The prosecution rests."

* * *

The steps of the Twilight Town court house were swarming with news reporters, their lights flashing and blinding everyone who dared exit the doors. Their shouts and questions and yelling was so loud that even 10 yards from the door Roxas already knew he was going to get a headache.

"We'll do better next time." Riku said beside him as he clipped his briefcase shut and tugged on his tie a little. Roxas gave him a black, angry look and flipped him the middle finger as they rounded the corner.

"How can you say that?" Roxas demanded irritably as they walked, fast paced to the door. The humiliation at hearing, "not guilty," was still fresh in Roxas's mind, and he wanted to get as far away as possible.

"Well, we'll get a better witness. Funny thing about the mob; they always give you reasons to throw them back in jail." Riku chuckled at his little joke, but his laughter died off awkwardly at the stare that Roxas threw at him.

"You didn't even listen to what was going on, Riku! You were so busy doodling about being with my cousin that you didn't even notice that our main problem was sitting 8 rows back from us! Newsflash, Riku, he's straight!" Roxas snapped, tugging at his hair ruefully and gripping his laptop bag tightly with his other hand. Riku slowed down at that, his face oddly grave and his eyes severe as he turned to Roxas and set his briefcase down slowly. Folding his arms and frowning he shook his head.

"No, I didn't pay attention, Roxas." He agreed, flipping silvery hair out of his eyes to make sure that Roxas could see them fully. Aquamarine eyes peered over at him with weariness and annoyance, trying to convey a different message than what his face showed. "Because every single case is the same. Every single person we've put on the stand has been bribed by them, threatened by them, scared by them, or supports them. How do you play a game against a team that outnumbers you one town against two people? Don't you get tired of it?" Riku asked.

"Get tired of trying? Sure, it gets old… but it's the-"

"Right thing to do, I know… but we can't fight them forever." Riku shrugged and frowned, looking away from Roxas to stare out of the double doors where lights flashed and reporters surged close to see them through the glass. "It gets old, always failing. Doing what's right isn't… always so nice, you know?" Roxas frowned at that and set his laptop bag down as well, disliking where the conversation was heading.

"What are you trying to say…?" Roxas questioned edgily.

"It gets old, doing what's right and having no recognition. No, we're just failures… be damned the fact we tried… we still fail in their eyes…" Riku rubbed his hand over his face and gave a forlorn look to his partner.

"So what, you're not going to do this anymore?" He demanded.

"Nothing so dramatic, Rox… I'm just tired. Tired and police force don't mix." Riku joked feebly. The dark stare was still in his eyes though, a weary and fed-up look.

"It's still the right thing to do, no matter the consequences." Roxas stated firmly. Laughing, Riku nodded along, his playful smile breaking the awkward ice that had formed for a moment between them. Picking up his briefcase, Riku nodded and rolled his eyes, turning towards the crowd waiting.

"Of course, Roxas, it's still right… I'm just tired of working hard and getting nothing… nice guys finish last. People like Axel Salvatore who runs mobs and things that aren't supposed to be good… still have a pretty good life, regardless. We're doing what's right and sit there pay check to pay check, struggling to survive and being made fun of by everyone in sight for us not succeeding while Axel Salvatore sits in a penthouse surrounded by beautiful women without a care in the world." Shrugging, he nodded to his partner and turned to leave, his steps sure and confidant as he made his way to the doors, gave a backwards wave, and then stepped out to face the press.

Roxas sighed and leaned against the small statue that they'd stopped near, rubbing his temples to try to ease the pressure that he felt building against his skull. They had these conversations every now and then when the pressure to win against something you couldn't beat grew too big…but Roxas hated having to try to push it into his partner's head that good was good, and bad was bad, no questions asked. Riku always seemed to toe the line, mentioning things about grey areas, and though they'd worked together since they'd both become the two youngest detectives on the force… Roxas sometimes didn't know who he was really dealing with.

"Rough day to be a detective." Roxas jerked out of his slightly self-pitying stupor to see Axel Salvatore in the flesh, flanked by his right hand men (and one woman) and staring at him with smug amusement.

"Don't mess with me, Flurry." Roxas snapped, grabbing up his laptop bag and putting on his best police face. "You step one toe out of line and I'll-"

"I wasn't stepping out of line anywhere, Detective Strife." His voice was soft and muted, the danger lurking in the under tone as the man's lips curled up into a slightly cruel smile, ever green eyes flashing wickedly. "Just telling my good friend Marluxia here how it was a shame that your witness couldn't have been a bit more… what was the word?"

"Self-assured, sir." The man beside him said, a sneer growing over his face as he flipped his pink hair back.

"Yes… it was a pity that she seemed so scared. Your case would have been very strong with a sturdy witness." Roxas felt his fists clenching tightly, the nails digging into his skin and the blood rushing to his face.

"Maybe if you hadn't threatened her and made her fear for her own life by testifying she would have been able to focus past seeing her cousin's murderer in the same room as her." Roxas hissed in reply, his vision narrowing until all he saw was Axel's tall, imposing, and utterly revolting form.

"Threatened her? Detective, the only one throwing things like threats around here… is you. I'm perfectly sociable." The small clutter of people around him cracked slightly wry grins at that and Axel raised an eyebrow.

"You've got your publicity, Salvatore; just get the hell out of the courthouse." Roxas snapped miserably, turning away and mentally prepping himself for the press. He'd have to make a mad dash towards his car to make it without being mauled by the greedy demons. As he turned to leave though, Axel spoke again.

"It's a shame about your partner… he doesn't seem to have very good morale these days." The smug superiority in his voice rose, and Roxas clenched his hands back into fists as he whirled around and glared.

"Leave my partner out of this." He hissed.

"Is that happening to you as well? It must be tiring being one of the few cops that truly cares about bringing scum like me into the courthouse." Axel's face remained carefully composed, his eyes sparkling far too brightly to be innocent.

"Is that a confession?" Roxas taunted angrily. He didn't know why he did this to himself, playing around with the one thing he hated the most. It only served to make him do stupid things and slip up with his speech from anger. The mature thing to do would be to walk away, but despite his attempts, Roxas couldn't make himself leave.

"Are you that desperate for one?" Axel asked quietly, hands slowly sliding into his pockets as he cocked a hip out and grinned wryly. It wasn't a real smile though; it was a slightly forced, calculative turn of the lips that could be mistaken if you'd never heard of Axel Salvatore before. Roxas knew him though, and knew the cold, ruthless cruelty his smile was capable of.

"Look, Salvatore-"

"Oh, please, detective… it's Axel. Haven't I told you that before? We've known each other for so long I'd almost say we were… friends." The smile widened a little into something a lot more mocking, and Roxas's glare hardened into something that could only be pure hatred.

"One of these days, I'm going to find the proof needed to put you behind bars for life, Salvatore. You're starting to slip up." His words fell on deaf ears though as Axel merely grinned smugly and stepped around him, shrugging and reaching into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

"Is it alright to smoke in here? I don't wish to offend anyone." Roxas felt his blood begin to boil, but he merely adjusted the strap of his laptop bag and gave one last withering glare to Axel's posse before he turned and walked away, completely ignoring the pointed looks being thrown his way from one of the occupants in the group.

Silence descended on the group as Axel watched Roxas Strife walk through the double doors and slip through the flashing photographers, a smirk dancing along his lips.

"He's got nothing to work with." Marluxia observed as he stepped up to Axel with intentionally loud steps to ensure that his boss was aware that he was moving closer.

"I do pity him." Zexion stated from behind, his face stoic as he spoke. "It must be frustrating to fight a never ending battle."

"I wonder," Axel mused out loud, pressing his fix against his mouth, "how long it will take before I make him snap?"

* * *

"How's the informant?" Riku took a drink of his coffee and leaned a little closer to the table, glancing at his partner and frowning as Roxas pulled out a folder and tossed it to him to give to the chief for review.

"He's dating the accountant for Salvatore's assets… finally worked out a small position as the main entourage because of connections." Roxas nodded to the small screen where the central headquarters of the Salvatore Mafia was in clear view, smalls sections showing the different rooms that had been infiltrated. Guards for the building patrolled and passed by the cameras, unaware that they were being watched.

"And he has nothing so far?" Their superior raised an eyebrow and gave Roxas and Riku a skeptical glance. The two exchanged annoyed looks before shrugging pretending not to be irked by the stupid question.

"The main entourage isn't the most trusted… it's just the most connected. He hardly even speaks to our informant, let alone looks at him. He's still working on it."

"How do you know he won't chicken out and rat?" Riku grinned and rolled his eyes.

"He's too much of a good guy for that, chief; we don't pick hindrances for people like Axel Salvatore." Roxas rolled his eyes at that and opened up another folder for the overview of their informant.

"You sure he's clear?"

"I checked him myself." Roxas assured him.

"Alright, I'll go with what you say about it; we'll see just how well he does after another month or so. Speaking of informants… what about the duo?" Riku grinned smugly and pulled out a small radio, clicking a few notches and setting it on the table.

"Hear for yourself."

* * *

It was dirty, and it was dark. the streets were lined with grime, and the only light emitted from dim, fading street lights. It was the bad side of town, the side where you didn't want to be caught unless you wanted to get shot.

It was the right place for the twins.

The red headed girl adjusted her short skirt and felt the small twist of top-of-the-line cuffs that could twist and bend, but not break unless cut. It was the perfect kind to hide in her mini skirt and thankfully you couldnt' see them in the outline. Pushing her hair back softly she fixed the small microphone in her clip, and cocked her hip out, winking at her partner.

"Hey, baby, you looking for some fun?" A seedy looking man with a winning smile sidled up close and raised an eyebrow invitingly. The red headed girl smirked in return and nodded to her friend who flashed a glance their way before adjusting the strapless dress a little more securely around her body.

"That depends…" The red head looked him up and down slowly before running her thumb along her fingers. "We don't come cheap."

"We…?" His chilling, greedy grin grew and he looked over at the blonde girl once more. "Are you who I think you are…?" There was a muted silence as a routine cop strode past, giving them a cursory glance before quickening his pace and turning the corner. It wouldn't do well to be caught in the middle of the business proposition taking place.

"That depends as well," The blonde chimed with an alluring, soft voice. "Who do you think we are?"

"Only heard by name… Salvatore Twins?" The red head and blonde exchanged knowing glances before they leaned in towards him and their smiles grew predatory.

"That would be us. Care to have some fun?"

* * *

"And how are we sure that you check out?" The brunette pushed his hair back and observed the stone-faced, calm blonde in front of him. His dead blue eyes watched Leon with an unblinking, unhelpful stare as he reached slowly and carefully into his pocket to pull out a thick stack of bills, wrapped in a rubber band.

"My business has helped along shipments before; our money remains in a secure, private bank. Clean sweeps of each man and an alias to go along with any person running a transaction so that clients won't be tied to problems that could come along." Leon made a motion to his men and one of them grabbed the money and ran a highlighter alongside of it, checking for the authenticity. Seeing that it was real currency he then passed it underneath a small, portable scanner that checked it as unmarked, clean bills, meaning that they'd been kept from public processing banks.

"Weren't you tied to the Faire incident?" Leon remained slightly slouched in his chair as the man's lips pursed in anger and his eyes flashed at the mention of the incident.

"Merely eating dinner with him; our businesses haven't worked with one another." He voice remained dead and unfeeling though his eyes betrayed the conflict within. Leon debated the matter for a moment in silence, running his fingers along the bridge of his nose where a scar stretched across and left him branded.

Finally, he came to a decision.

"Here's how the transaction will go; you will be reached by a private number where your men will be directed to a specific spot. They will fly low, under the radar, and meet at the spot where they will be processed through and then given the specific merchandise to deliver. Each package has a bomb and if opened, it will detonate and both evidence and your men will die, after which your business will meet the same fate. You will fly them towards the main tower in Traverse Town where it will land at the designated spot and then be transferred to a semi with another load of your men and my client's on board to ensure the smooth progression.

"Once it is on the semi you will call the number to confirm the motions and then be directed to a new site where the products will be moved to another plane flown under the radar and then delivered to the next movement of a different business. Once you've delivered to them, then your part is over and you make the call. If things check out alright, you will hear from us. If not…" Leon's voice trailed off and he raised an eyebrow as the blonde's glare darkened. Taking a small sip from his whiskey the brunette shrugged.

"Then consider yourself a dead man."

* * *

The man slipped down the hallways, his presence unnoticed by the others around him. He made sure to keep in the shadows and out of the eye of the other people in the building, his death certain if anyone saw him. He was, after all, expendable. He was merely dating the accountant of Salvatore's assets; he wasn't anything special.

Walking up the large, extravagant staircase in the dark, he heard the passing of feet on stone, and he slipped into a small enclosure, pulling the curtain back and pressing himself as far back as he could so that he wouldn't be seen. As the steps drew closer his heart sped up and he tensed, praying they didn't pull back the curtains and expose him. He was new as it was; he didn't need to be viewed as a troublesome snoop before he'd even gotten the main man's trust.

Thankfully, the steps drew closer and then faded away into nothing as the person descended the staircase. Breathing a silent sigh of relief the man leaned against the back wall, resting for a moment.

Though, he didn't have much time for rest as the wall behind him suddenly gave way and he stumbled back, arms flailing.

He fell onto the ground, hard, the fall knocking the wind out of him and leaving him gasping for breath silently. With wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart he looked around him, eyes blind in the darkened area that he'd fallen into. In the gloom he could just barely make out smooth walls and the wall that he'd fallen through, a small latch on the inside of it like it was a trap door.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest, and cautiously he took in a slow, even breath, ignoring the ache in his ass from the fall. Standing up slowly, he looked up to see a tall ceiling of the same smooth texture that the walls had, and that beneath him steps of the same style led upwards in a tight spiral. Clicking the button on the small pin on his belt, he knew that the headquarters would be getting a recorded video of his findings as he discovered them. That way, if anything happened to him they'd still have proof of something.

He hesitantly followed the steps, fingers sliding along the walls and finding numerous other trap doors as he walked. Where these steps led to he didn't know, but with his heart beating a tattoo into his rib cage and the adrenaline rushing in his veins, he was determined to find out.

As he finally reached the end of the spiraling staircase the man found himself facing another trap door, the only indication of it being able to move being the small latch hanging from the "wall". Blood rushing through his veins, the man stepped closer, fingers reaching towards the latch, his mind hardly registering that his hand was trembling. Gripping the latch firmly, he took a deep breath and pulled the door with a jerk, excited when the door swung forward silently on well oiled hinges.

And revealed his boyfriend, a hand paused in mid-air as the other clutched onto papers tightly.

His boyfriend didn't have a wide range of emotions, but shock was one of the ones apparent. His one visible eye widened and his mouth dropped in surprise as he stared at the obvious intruder in the staircase. The man in the secret hallway could only stare back in equal shock, his finger itching for a gun to hold but his gut telling him to keep up the act. He had to remain in control of his character; one false move and he was done for.

"What are you doing here?" His boyfriend hissed, reaching forward and clutching his shirt tightly in a small hand. Raising his hands up in defense, the man winced and screwed his face into something truly scared and shocked, his need to lie rising fast.

"I-I- I'm not- I don't know what-" He stuttered, feeling a blush rush to his cheeks. "I didn't know where I was going; I got s-so turned around, and-"

"How did you even find this place?" His boyfriend demanded in the same angry, low voice. One hand gripped the papers to his chest tightly, hiding the words from his view, and the other hand gripped his shirt threateningly. It was a stance that he'd never seen from this man before; it was threatening and violent. The man knew he had to do something about it because he suddenly felt like he'd be dead in less than a minute unless he started really doing a lot of lying, and fast.

"I-I don't know!" He made his voice turn pathetic and terrified. "One moment I'm trying to find you and I took a turn that I'd never taken before, and-and next thing I know I'm falling into here from nowhere!" He blubbered and made his eyes go wide and pitiful, mentally praying. If this piece right here didn't fit into place, he was a dead man by noon. His boyfriend raised an eyebrow at that and his lips pursed.

"Where did you fall into?" His boyfriend demanded, but he noticed how the grip on his shirt was lessening. The accountant didn't seem as suspicious anymore, and if anything, he seemed worried and relieved.

"D-down there…" He motioned pathetically behind him and let his shoulders sag. The accountant looked past him, peering into the gloom like he could see right where he'd fallen through, and his lips turned down in concentration.

"You'll show me?" He demanded, letting go of the man's shirt altogether and shutting the door behind him. Nodding furiously, he took a hold of his boyfriend's hand and poked his lip out.

"I'm sorry, Zex; I didn't know- I'm so sorry…" He tightened his hold like a needy child, praying that it worked.

"Only the guilty are sorry." Zexion replied stiffly, watching him carefully.

"I-I am! You're… upset with me." Hanging his head he grabbed hold of Zexion's free hand with both hands, trying to convey a secret message. "I don't want you to be upset with me." Zexion frowned at that, his face obscured partially by disorderly slate grey hair, and he knew that he was thinking. This was the trickiest part. Though Salvatore was the head of the organization and the oil that ran it, his accountant was the smarts and the schemer; one false move in front of him and he was as good as dead.

"Let us see where you fell in, shall we?" Zexion finally suggested quietly, pulling the papers closer to his chest with a tense arm. Walking past him he kept his hand in his grip and tugged him along., pretending not to notice the secrecy Zexion had with the papers. He'd need to go back later to investigate the room that he'd almost been in. Based on his boyfriend's fury, it was something important.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, hanging his head. Zexion paused at that, turning to look up at his boyfriend with an unreadable expression.

"Just… try not to fall into any other doors." He replied quietly, leaning up to kiss him lightly on the lips. "I'd hate to have to kill you, Demyx."

* * *

_Hit or miss? Let me know in a review!_

_:) So... Demyx is the undercover agent... how will that turn out? _

_Let me know!_

_I'll update soon!_


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